


The Raggedy Doctor

by whovianmuse



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:32:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovianmuse/pseuds/whovianmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The Doctor had spent the past few months trying to convince himself that it wasn’t his fault. He'd endured the pain of it, carried the guilt of his regret, the weight of his abandonment, and of Amy’s incomplete childhood, filled with loss and confusion she couldn’t even remember, on his conscience. And what he wouldn’t do to make it up to her…thousands, millions, even lifetimes of beautiful, breath-taking, brilliant planets and time periods, scattered across the crumbling universe…it was nothing in comparison to what he’d taken from her.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Raggedy Doctor

His fist slammed into the cold metal of the console for the third time, lips twisted into a grimace as his hearts hammered in his chest. The Doctor closed his eyes and concentrated, raking his mind for possible places he might have overlooked in his relentless search, repeating the same strangled string of reassurances. Amy was just fine. She’d just wandered off. At any moment, she’d pop round a corner and grace him with that heart-clenching little smile, and he’d smother her in kisses, and all would be forgiven. No, no, he couldn’t kiss her. He had already burned that bridge. Burned it to cinders. He couldn’t rebuild it now.

In the midst of begging the TARDIS to reveal Amy’s whereabouts, he heard a cacophony of splashes, echoing from a corridor to his left. He stumbled quickly down the steps, taking the corridor at full speed, the thudding of his shoes on the harsh metal ground matching the pace of his hearts. As he came closer, the scent of dusty, old books and chlorine filled his head. He rounded the final corner, and was plunged into semi-darkness.

Shadows of light in shades of violet, cerulean, pale pink and gold circled above him like smoke, dancing along the ceiling and shimmering over the surface of the grand swimming pool like fireflies. The room was the size of a small forest lined with cobalt-blue marble, the swimming pool flowing like an enormous river in the center. Rows of bookshelves stood like giants on either side: histories and faerie tales embedded in ink and leather-bound.

The Doctor scanned the room, biting the insides of his cheeks in panic, hoping like hell that Amy knew how to swim, when a small head popped out of the water, and delicate hands brushed back a tangled mess of flame-red hair. He breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled softly, before remembering just how much trouble she’d put him through.

“Any chance you’d like to alert me the next time you decide to wander off, Pond?” He asked. Amy turned to face him, smiling brilliantly, as though she’d been expecting him. The Doctor smiled in spite of himself and strolled over to the edge of the pool. Amy dipped under the surface, gliding to where the Doctor crouched, waiting for her. Scarlet-painted nails gripped the edge of the marble as Amy slowly pulled herself up.

The Doctor toppled backward and his eyes widened in comical shock as he took in the sight of Amy’s chest: pale, freckled, and bare. He watched in fascination as trickles of pale blue water slid down her torso and disappeared beyond her waist. Lost for words, he forced his eyes away from her and glanced, for lack of a better place, toward the ceiling.

“Brilliant lighting. Well, it’s not actually lighting. More like trapped bits of a supernova in little metallic containers. Though, I suppose that _is_ light, just in the form of exploding fragments. I must admit, I hadn’t a clue that the TARDIS swimming pool actually existed anymore. Thought it got chucked out when she rebuilt herself after the crash. You’re the first of anyone to find it,” he addressed the ceiling.

“Amy,” he said, cutting across his own train of thought, “would you mind explaining to me why you’re naked in my swimming pool?”

“Oh! Right, sorry. Fancied a dip. You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.

“No, no. I don’t mind if you’re…that’s perfectly…just tell me next time, will you, so I don’t tear apart half the TARDIS in search for you? I thought I’d lost you.”

“Fair enough,” she responded, pushing her scarlet-painted toes off of the edge and ricocheting backward. Amelia floated across the surface like a water lily, while the Doctor struggled to take his eyes off of her.

“Water’s really nice, you know,” she called to him as she drifted toward the center, completely at ease in the vast, tranquil river. The Doctor shook his head vehemently, bouncing up and crossing over to a section of the library.

“I’m fine…I’ll just…read a book,” he said. “I’ll sit right here, though, and keep an eye on you. Make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

Plucking a book at random, the Doctor settled into a nook in between the first and second bookshelf, leaning his back against the wooden frame of the first. Disregarding the cover of the rather large and brightly-colored book he’d chosen, he turned to the first page, and stretched his arms out in front of him, so that the cryptic font was all he could see.

“Doctor,” Amy called after a few moments.

“Yes, Pond?” he asked, without looking up. “Do you need a towel? A decent swimsuit, perhaps? Some trousers?”

“Doctor, you’ve got that book upside down.”

“So I have,” he mumbled quietly, flipping the book the other way up. The Doctor stared determinedly at the writing on the page, never taking in its content. Occasionally, he peered over the edge of the book, convincing himself that he was only doing so for Amelia’s safety. When fifteen minutes had passed and he hadn’t left the same page, Amy’s voice rang out again, closer this time. He brought the book to his lap to find a very wet Amelia perched along the edge of the pool, revealing nothing more than her pale, freckled shoulders. She glanced back and forth from the book to his startled face, one eyebrow arched in confusion.

“Doctor,” she said, “why are you reading a book called, _The Joys of Cross-Species Sex_?”

“I—” he began, draping the book over his traitorous trousers as he watched Amelia bounce on the balls of her feet, shaking with laughter and sharing glimpses of her breasts.

“More to the point, why do you _own_ a book called, _The Joys of Cross-Species Sex_?”

“Oh, I…it’s not _mine_. TARDIS must’ve picked it out. She’s…curious.”

“Are _you_?” Amy asked. The Doctor swallowed nervously, pressing the book down firmly to the point of pain.

            “Well, I don’t particularly invest my time in such…activities,” he managed, wincing.

            “Doctor, how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?”

            “It’s…well…” he stumbled.

            “If you have to think on it, it’s been too long,” she concluded.

            “Well, there was that time that _you_ kissed me,” he said, cursing his brain filter for abandoning him at a time like this.

            “Oh, come off it, that doesn’t count. You never kissed me back. Nothing and no one was holding you back from doing so, but you just…” Amelia broke off and began fumbling with the cracked marble beneath her arms, conflicted between several emotions, before settling on anger, and staring daggers at him.

            “It doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “You’ve been taking me to all of these gorgeous, romantic places, and sometimes I think that maybe you…that we…but it doesn’t mean anything, does it? I’m just another companion, just here to keep your company. I mean nothing to you.”

            The Doctor opened his mouth to object, but in a flurry of movements more graceful than that of a dancer’s, Amy had pushed off from the edge and disappeared beneath the surface. The Doctor sighed, tossing the troublesome book carelessly across the floor. He placed his head in his hands, bringing his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them, wondering how long he would have to endure this torment.

Of course he’d kissed her back that night. Thousands of nights would come to pass where the memory of that kiss would haunt him. He wasn’t allowed to have enjoyed it, because it had belonged to someone else. True, nothing was holding him back _now_. Rory had vanished from Amy’s memories when he’d been devoured into nonexistence by the cracks in the skin of the universe, but that wasn’t justification for insulting Rory’s memory. It didn’t matter how often Amelia Pond traveled through this thoughts, slipped into his dreams, and walked the confines of his mind. She belonged to Rory Williams, and no amount of affection for the persistent little ginger could allow the Doctor to tarnish his morals.

            The Doctor had spent the past few months trying to convince himself that it wasn’t his fault. He endured the pain of it, carried the guilt of his regret, the weight of his abandonment, and of Amy’s incomplete childhood, filled with loss and confusion she couldn’t even remember, on his conscience. And what he wouldn’t do to make it up to her…thousands, millions, even lifetimes of beautiful, breath-taking, brilliant planets and time periods, scattered across the crumbling universe…it was nothing in comparison to what he’d taken from her.

            The Doctor whimpered softly, lost in reverie, and listened for the sound of distant splashes, hoping she hadn’t left, but all he heard was silence.

            “Amy,” the Doctor shouted, scanning the length of the swimming pool. Nothing. He sprang from his nook, searching for a sign of her underneath the water, calling out her name. The Doctor bit his lip, fumbling nervously with his hands, and cursing under his breath. Fully aware that he was wasting time, he made up his mind and jumped, fully clothed, and sunk into the depths of the swimming pool. The chlorine stung his eyes, but he continued his desperate search for her, until his air supply ran empty. He burrowed to the surface, panic-stricken, wondering helplessly where she must have gone, angry with himself for having lost her.

            Cold hands grasped his shoulders and he jumped, utterly frightened, before he realized that it was Amy, floating along in the water beside him, smirking and offering him his soaking bowtie that had become detached in his valiant efforts. He chuckled softly as she fastened it around his neck, breathing a sigh of relief as he pulled her into his arms.

            He pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, “Amy, oh, Amy, I’m never letting you out of my sight again. Of course you’re important to me, you mean the world to me. Several worlds, in fact. But for goodness’ sake, will you please stop disappearing like that?”

            Amy smiled cautiously, and raised her eyebrows.

            “How much do I mean to you?” she asked.

            “I…Amy, I’ve just said. Worlds, galaxies, the universe. Everything,” he breathed, calculating her expression as a flux of emotions flashed across her eyes. Slowly, she smiled, winding her arms around the Doctor’s neck and bringing her lips to rest a few torturous centimeters from his. His mind shouted warnings, but he refused to move. Common sense abandoned him as he felt Amy’s fingers gliding through his hair, and his eyes rolled back in spite of himself. He fought the sensations, and urged his lips to form coherent words.

            “Amy…Amelia…we mustn’t…you need…to stop…this.”

            Amy ignored his whispered pleas, pulling him close with a sudden fierceness, locking her lips onto his and weaving her fingers through his disheveled hair.

            “Amy,” he moaned softly, as she dug her nails into the skin of his back, grazing them up his spine and sending a flurry of shivers through his body. His lips parted, only to be met with hers, and he felt the inviting warmth of her mouth as she moved against him, tasted the sweetness of her breath that lingered on his lips as she pulled away, nearly breaking his hearts.

            _To hell with morals._

            The Doctor seized Amy with sudden force, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to his chest, exploring forbidden curves, delighting in the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. Amelia Pond wasted no time. She had pushed him against the marbled edge and wrestled him out of his tweed jacket, button-up shirt and trousers before he’d even had the chance to do so himself, the two of them watching with amused smiles as his clothes sank helplessly to the depths. Amy turned to face him, examining the curious little irritation still tied around his neck. The Doctor started to protest, but Amy was clever.

            She grazed her teeth along the length of his neck, nibbling at the bowtie, pulling on it gently and slipping her tongue in between its fabric and the sensitive skin of the Doctor’s neck. Within seconds, she had loosened his beloved bowtie, and held it in her teeth. The Doctor chuckled and took it from her, tossing it to the side. He lifted her slowly, admiring the way her reflection glimmered in the water, trailing kisses across the base of her throat and circling his tongue along the curves of her breasts and hips.

            He kissed her hungrily, the way he’d always intended to. Amy slipped into his mouth, exploring every surface and texture, wrapping her arms around his waist, tucking her hands around the curves of his hips. The Doctor moaned softly, grasping her hips in return and swerving quickly, so that Amy was up against the smooth marble in his place. She conceded, wrapping her legs around his waist and feeling the rush of skin against skin as he entered her.

            The Doctor moved slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving hers as she wound herself impossibly closer, her smile unmistakable as she buried her face in his chest. He begged reality for this dream to last, his vision blurring as he moved ever faster, responding to Amy’s requests, as she arched her back and wrapped her legs even tighter around his waist, pulling him in deeper.

            His mind raced, dizzying him further, and torturous, uninvited notions began to poison his thoughts. Would she have done this with Rory? Would she have been waiting for Rory, in the very same place that the two of them were now, had he not disappeared? A shot of unearned jealousy spread through his chest as he imagined the two of them together. Rory’s lips against hers. Rory’s hands touching her skin. He’d kissed her first, whispered her name with words of eternal promise before the Doctor had even had the chance.

            It was entirely his fault. He’d abandoned her for fourteen years, and Rory had taken his place. Loyal Rory. Romantic Rory. Lucky, worthy, infuriating Rory. Envy pulsed through his veins as he realized the truth of it. It would always be Rory. For the rest of her life, she would miss him madly, without even realizing it. She would always love him, even if she couldn’t understand why. After all, what was the Doctor to her, in comparison with Rory? Merely a faerie tale. Imaginary. Nonexistent. Insubstantial. It was Rory who deserved her touch, Rory who deserved her affections.

            His hearts thrummed on the verge of breaking point as a swell of self-hatred rose in his chest. He urged the torturous thoughts inside his head to cease, but the guilt tore through him relentlessly. She was broken and empty and lost, and he was only making it worse. The Raggedy Doctor, torn and terrible and broken himself, dragging Amy down with him in his own selfish conquest for repent. He struggled to keep his emotions in check, nearly crying out in a combination of ecstasy and unendurable agony.

            They moved in rhythm to the steps of a twisted, terrible dance, as Amy pressed her lips to his. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, further, pushing him over the edge, her soft, little moans radiating through his chest as she buried her mouth against his neck. The Doctor slowly released himself from Amy, breathing in jagged thrusts, as the realization of what he’d just done washed through him.

            The water froze his skin, tightening his pores painfully, and he pulled a shivering Amy close to his chest, hugging her gently, leaning his forehead against hers and kissing it softly, comforting her the way he should have been all along. He smiled sadly, suppressing a collection of tormented cries that threatened to break the surface if he wasn’t careful. With a painful stab, the Doctor realized that he would never get the chance to tell her how much he loved her, but he knew what must be done.

            Neither of them spoke as they held one another, reliving the last few echoes of the moment. Amy breathed slowly, contentedly enveloped in the Doctor’s arms. He held her close, feeling the ragged beat of his hearts pulse against hers, breathing in the scent of her hair, memorizing the curves of her body, the delicate feel of her skin beneath his, burning the image of her smiling face into his mind. Reveling in the moment, even as it twisted into smoke, because he knew that this was the last time he could ever be this close to her again.


End file.
